


touch me and make me real

by scandalous



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Porn, F/M, First Kiss, Mentor/Protégé, Older Man/Younger Woman, Past Character Death, Past Torture, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Episode: s03e07 Digestivo, Prosthesis, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalous/pseuds/scandalous
Summary: A conversation at Jack Crawford's house leads to more for him and Miriam Lass.
Relationships: Jack Crawford/Miriam Lass
Kudos: 5
Collections: Prompt Table Challenge: Sexy and Kinky, Trope Bingo: Round Fourteen





	touch me and make me real

**Author's Note:**

> **trope bingo:** may/december romance  
>  **sexy and kinky @ creativechallenges:** mentor/protégé
> 
> miriam's age is like, vague, and i thought she was meant to be a lot younger than her actress but considering she has a phd she's at the very least 26 in flashbacks. in this fic, she's 30 years old by the time hannibal surrenders to the fbi.
> 
> also this fic is a lot more angsty than porny. it's not very sexy. sorry!
> 
> enjoy!

It starts, in one way or another, out of grief.

"I shot an innocent man," Miriam says, sitting across from Jack in his home office. She's been going from place to place, at couches, not daring to go back to the apartment she used to live in— her landlord had been kind enough as to be understanding to the fact she had been abducted by a famous serial killer and started her lease over from scratch.

"Hannibal manipulated you into thinking he was the Ripper, Miriam," Jack offers her gently, tilting his head. He's still wearing black; it has been two months. "It's not your fault."

"I still shot an innocent man," she says, her voice wavering. "I'm tired— I'm tired of it. Of remembering." She bites her lip so hard she can almost taste blood, and she reaches over for a napkin with her prosthetic. Yet another thing she's lost because of Hannibal. She pauses for a second. "I visited him a few days ago."

"Miriam," Jack says heavily.

"I know," she cuts him off. "My therapist said I shouldn't, that it's too early. But I had to see him."

Jack considers this for a moment, and then he asks, "what did he say?"

He asks in a hushed whisper, like he will awake ghosts inside her if he says it too loud. And he might— at this point, he might.

"I asked him why me," she says. "Why didn't he kill me, to be precise." Her lip quivers. "He said that I was a…  _ valuable asset, _ and that I wasn't a pig, so he was not going to slaughter me. He said that he— that he always held some sort of respect for me. That all it took for me to realize were his drawings." She frowns. "I don't remember that. I still can't remember exactly how he caught me."

"Don't worry about remembering," he soothes, voice heavy. 

"He said he kept me because of you," she says. "He had it all planned. All up to you finding me."

Tears prick at Jack's eyes, as much as he would try to deny them. "Yeah," he nods. "He had it all planned. If he didn't want to surrender, he would still been out and about now."

"Why'd he surrender, anyway?"

Jack gives her a small shrug. "Will didn't want to talk about what their conversation consisted of. He seemed pretty upset. And again, now he's trying to get away from all of this." He stands up and heads toward his coffee maker. "Coffee?"

"Sure," she nods. "How have you been holding up?"

"I could ask you the same," he shoots back.

"Well, I'm asking you," she says.

He gives her a shrug and looks as the machine whirs. "I've been better."

Miriam pauses for a long time. "You upped her medication, didn't you?"

Jack freezes and turns over to her. "Miriam, I—"

"You killed her out of mercy."

He swallows loudly. "Miriam."

"We aren't above the law." She smiles at him, albeit sadly. "It's okay, Jack. I would've done it too if I was you."

He sighs heavily. "I just couldn't stand to see her keep suffering," he says.

"I know," she nods, standing up and reaching out to give him a hug. "It's okay, Jack."

Jack leans down to press a kiss to her scalp, hand carding through her hair as they keep that touch that makes them both a little too starved for more. Miriam buries her face on his chest, clinging onto him and resisting the urge to cry. She's craved touch oh so badly the last few years, wanting to be touched in a way that wasn't like  _ that, _ that wasn't Hannibal caressing her cheek as he told her he was going to amputate her arm.

He never touched her any more than necessary. Not in her memories, at least.

"I need you, Jack," she mumbles deep into his chest. 

Jack remains stoic. The coffee machine whirs in protest of not being turned off or to have its contents taken out. "We can't do this, Miriam," he says. "I can't do this to you."

"But you want to," she says, looking up at him. "I'm not a child, Jack. I'm thirty years old."

"I am still your superior," he says. "I  _ was _ your superior, at the very least. And you've been through so much —"

"Would you sleep with me if it was recommended by my therapist?" she says.

"Luckily for us, she would never recommend sex with your superior as a valid therapeutic method."

"Well, I still want you," Miriam replies, putting her hands on her hips. "It doesn't have to last longer, Jack. Just one night, I want to have the Guru all for myself. I want to have myself back."

And she knows that Jack can't resist that. For her to ask anything of him after all she's been put through because, if one looks at it like that, because of him.

"You and I both know it'll last longer than just one night," he says as he puts his hands over hers. 

"Well," she breathes. "We can cross that bridge when we get to it."

It starts out of grief. For a life lost, and a life scarred. Jack leans down to kiss her and she clings onto him, eyes fluttering shut as they grow more desperate and more eager. She breathes hard against him as they lead themselves clumsily to Jack's bedroom.

"Would you prefer the— the guest's room?" she asks airily as she starts unbuttoning his jacket. "You know, because…"

Jack pauses. "Yeah," he says. "That's a good idea."

Miriam keeps a hand on Jack's shoulder as she helps him undress, feeling his skin against her fingertips.

"Is it any different to actual fingers?" he asks.

"It feels the same," he says. "Don't worry about it, Miriam. Just let me take care of you."

Miriam smiles at him. "I'm all yours, Agent Crawford."

He scoffs and puts her on her back, pulling her pants down and off. 

"You're gorgeous, Miriam," he says.

"Have you always thought that?" she asks, tilting her head back as he slowly pushes two fingers inside her, his thumb leaning up to rub at her clit in circles. "Were you, ah, lusting over the young trainee with a PhD?"

Jack rolls his eyes. "I fail to see how that is relevant," he says, leaning down to kiss her.

"It doesn't matter, really," she says, squirming on the bed. "Just curious. And also eager."

"You were always spunky," Jack confides, pressing a kiss to her neck, beard scratching against her throat. She squeaks at the sensation. "Always ready to break the rules just to get to the meat of things. I enjoyed that. I still do."

"My bite has faded," she tells him, gasping when he does a come-hither motion with his fingers, rubbing the pads right against her g-spot. 

"It's still there," Jack says. "You're just burying it."

"For obvious reasons," she says. 

"For obvious reasons," he concedes. "Do you want me to have you now, Miriam?"

"Yeah," she nods.

He nods and pulls down his pants, stroking himself to hardness before slowly pushing inside her. Miriam gasps and tilts her head back. "Jack," she breathes out.

"Yes?" he asks, leaning down to kiss her as he keeps fucking into her. He's gentle, hands on her sides as he takes what she wants him to take. "Are you alright?" 

"Yeah," she breathes out. "I'm good, Jack. I'm good."

She could do this forever. She knows her therapist won't enjoy it, to hear that she slept with Jack Crawford, but it's the only way she's found to get out of the hole she's been dug into. She wishes she could say it's a hole she dug herself into, but Hannibal Lecter was holding the shovel and she just let him throw dirt at her.

She moans as he takes her, eyes shut tight in pleasure. 

"You're gorgeous," Jack says, cupping her cheek in his hand. "You're absolutely stunning. I'm so sorry all of this happened."

"Don't—" she whines out. "Don't bring what happened to me up  _ now. _ "

But it's, really, a constant reminder, every time her prosthesis makes a mechanic noise as she strokes Jack's bicep. She is not escaping what has happened to her, as much as she decides to use Jack's attention to distract her from the fact that she lost two years of her life to being under Hannibal Lecter's grip; grip tight enough for her to not realize it was him.

"I'm sorry," he says, his breathing heavy. "I'm close, Miriam."

"You can take care of me after you come," she says, legs wrapped tight around his waist. "Come on, Jack, come on."

He comes into the condom, nails digging into her sides. "That felt… really good."

"Well, you should make  _ me _ feel really good now, then," she says.

Jack stares and then he laughs softly. "See? There's the spunky Miriam I knew."

He leans down to brush at her clit and Miriam is aware that yes, doing Jack Crawford might not be a therapy-approved coping mechanism, but he's the best she's got.


End file.
